From the time I was a child, I knew I’d have two kids by the time I was 30. I just knew. And I did. Today, they are 7 and 10.
I always thought there would be another two later on. I think about that sometimes. Because suddenly, later on is either within the next 5 years or so or it’s not going to happen. And based on my current life, it’s not. But, I remain open to the possibility.
I feel the quiet yearning. It’s very subtle. And I’m very uncertain about it.
It’s odd, this pull for two more when I have felt so resistant to the two I have and I’m so appreciative of the freedom of their older years.
My internal resistance to motherhood has been intense. Much less now than in the beginning, but still very much there on occasion.
Like now, for example.
I want to write. And write and write and write. Get lost in it, but it’s bed time for the kids and that means I have to pull myself away from the computer. I do it because I love them and want them to feel my presence. But, the resistance is there.
If I had two more kids, it would have to be from a place of freedom. With a much greater awareness of exactly what that means.
Raising children (at least if you are parenting at all within the bounds of societal norms and/or worried about the outcome) can be anything but free.
The guilt, the uncertainty, the fear of permanently ruining their lives.
If I did it again, it would be without that.
Kaia was born when I was 25. Before I understood anything about God, the Universe or myself. I raised myself right along with both of them.
If I had two more, they’d be raised by a much different version of me.
More relaxed. More trusting. Less Resistant. More mature, grounded and sure. More present. With that, I’m going to get present with the two I have now. It’s bed time.
I’d love to hear from you about your experience if you’ve had kids early in life and then later in life. How different was the experience? How different were the kids. Tell me all about it!